


Hot Chocolate

by yukiartsa



Category: Dragon Ball
Genre: (and i still suck at tags), Guess Who's Back, M/M, back again, this idiot's back, with some kakavege fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-28
Updated: 2018-05-28
Packaged: 2019-05-14 18:47:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14775164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yukiartsa/pseuds/yukiartsa
Summary: As winter settles, so too must the Saiyans.





	Hot Chocolate

**Author's Note:**

> writing this with one hand in my sleeve is difficult... it’s cold, and it’s nearly winter where i live >.<
> 
> it’s been way too long since i wrote (probably because i’ve been coming to terms with my asexuality), so hopefully this fluff of a pairing i’ve only written once about, is enough to keep you satisfied.

Snow had always been something Goku loved with his characteristic childlike passion. He was typically the first one awake each morning, eager to run out in only his gi despite the low temperatures, and the last to come inside, finally submitting once his fingers turned numb, and his stomach overruled his desires to stay.

Vegeta was the polar opposite to his Saiyan lover; the cold winter mornings were best spent inside, savouring the warmth for as long as possible, and interaction with the fields of white were minimal, unless he remained inside with a bowl of soup in his hands, watching from the window.

Although Kakarot often begged Vegeta to come out with him, he knew the Saiyan preferred the indoors during such cold climates, and as such, attempted to bring the outside to him. At first, it had been a few melting snowballs that he’d been made to clean up when they stained the rug, but after some discussion with Bulma and the kids, he found using a camera to be a much more effective method (without any mess), and he’d come back with dozens of photos of the day’s events, recalling each one beside his partner as he warmed himself by the fireplace.

The few occasions where nature forbid them from going outside, was used to get chores done around the Saiyan’s modest Capsule house; whilst Kakarot often had his own ideas of passing the time (Vegeta wasn’t opposed to them, but his lover had a one-track mind sometimes), he was accepting of his lover’s wishes, knowing a reward would await him at the end of their hard work.

Vegeta’s reward was rarely something that didn’t involve the two “warming up” together, and those instances always sparked Goku’s interest. He understood how sharing a house with his lover was difficult when they both knew very little about keeping it, but thankfully, their former wives had been willing to assist when needed; typically, Vegeta was the one being educated, rather than his lover.

The prince returned from the kitchen with two mugs in hand, a blanket hung over his shoulders like a cape trailing behind him, as he sat the cups down on the coffee table before him, and joined his lover on the couch, ignoring the countless blankets and pillows he’d cocooned himself in. It was his fault for staying out too long that he’d been forced to stay inside; Kakarot had since warmed his numb fingers and toes, although his fever had yet to subside.

“Wha’s tha?” Goku asked, wishing he could just spit out the stupid thermometer he’d been forced to keep in his mouth.

“Bulma told me it’s basically melted chocolate in a cup,” Vegeta answered, collecting the mugs once he’d made himself comfortable. “I thought I’d try making it for the sick patient.”

“I’m na’ sick!”

Vegeta raised an eyebrow, plucking the thermometer from his lover’s mouth, squinting to read the numbers before clicking his tongue as he sat it down. “You’re peaking forty degrees right now, Kakarot. That means you’re sick,” he stated as his partner received his mug.

“Y’know I could get ya sick too, Geets,” the younger mumbled, watching pink and white boats in a sea of brown.

The prince simply grunted in response, blowing his drink out of caution. “If I’m not sick of you already, Kakarot, then I doubt a cold would affect me that much.”

“Are ya gonna take care of me?”

The older Saiyan fell silent, his cheeks turning a faint shade of pink. Vegeta turned away from Kakarot’s stupid grin, sipping at his broth to avoid answering the question.

“Thought so,” Goku said with a giggle, and took a sip of his own drink. “This is really good, Geets!”

“Is it?” Vegeta spoke up once more, as if to acknowledge that he was still listening. “It doesn’t taste different to what Bulma made for us last week.”

“Really?” Goku blinked, vaguely recalling his lover requesting his ex-wife for the recipe when he’d seen how much the younger Saiyan had enjoyed it, before taking a longer sip, mulling over it once more.

“It’s the same recipe and all, Kakarot.”

“Huh… It might just be because you made it, Vegeta.”

“How does that make any sense?” 

“I dunno, it just does!” The younger whined, turning to face his lover.

Vegeta stared at him for a moment, before a laugh escaped him, a genuine smile that only Kakarot was allowed to witness spreading across his features. Goku wanted to frown and ask what he found so amusing, but the honesty on his lover’s face was too precious to interrupt, and he found himself smiling as well.

“You idiot,” the prince murmured, once he had settled, “you’ve got a chocolate moustache.”

While Goku couldn’t see it for himself, he recalled the times he’d been chastised for being a messy eater, and the remains he’d wiped off with his sleeve that had lingered above his upper lip; Goten had explained during fits of laughter how ridiculous he looked with a pumpkin soup moustache that matched the colour of his gi.

“I’m saving it for later,” the younger joked, taking another sip to maintain the moustache dribbling down his mouth.

Vegeta smirked, sitting down his mug. “There’s plenty left over, Kakarot,” he murmured, pressing himself against his lover, met with darker cheeks and a warmer hand against his own, “and I’d be willing to share mine with you, if you’d like…”

“Vegeta…” Goku breathed, the distance between them lessening.

It was a slow, gentle kiss that ended too soon for Kakarot’s liking; Vegeta’s lips were soft against his, before he sucked on the younger’s upper lip, tasting the chocolate for himself, finally pulling away once he was content with what he’d achieved.

The older Saiyan licked his lips, as if he was tasting the chocolate once more, aware of his blushing, embarrassed lover watching his every move.

“Now that you mention it,” Vegeta mused, collecting his mug, “it _does_ taste better than what the woman made for us.”


End file.
